


Burn

by ThatCatLover



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Cuz my friends are stupid (jk I love them), Eliza burns buildings for fun, Fire set deliberatly, Ham's a cop, I have no idea how police stations work, John has poorly timed puns, Just work with me on this one, Liza's an arsonist, Liza's gone cray cray, This Is why I don't take prompts from friends, Why Did I Write This?, You heard me bitches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 02:24:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13378134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatCatLover/pseuds/ThatCatLover
Summary: Just read the tags. Eliza is an arsonist. As weird as it sounds and I hate myself for writing this. A prompt from one of my friendsFriend: Eliza burning letters... but they're *buildings*Me: Elaborate? (do I want to know?)Friend: She burns buildings. You're writing a story for thisMe: Crap.This is a crackfic and I hate my best friend now. Thanks, CC.





	Burn

"Boss! We got word about another fire same lead, Elizabeth Schuyler!" John shouted across the station

George sighed "Again? Hamilton, are you hearing this?!"

"Oh, I'm hearing it alright" Alex sighed "God, who would have thought that Eliza Schuyler, a total sweetheart, would become a criminal and arsonist?"

George sputtered "Wait, you KNOW her?!"

Alex chose not to answer and instead, John said: "Eliza was an old *flame* of his in high school." The other men in the room groaned "They broke up after the *spark* went out in junior year." John laughed at his own joke.

"Oh, god, make it stop," Alex muttered just loud enough for the other two to hear him. "The fact that I knew her once just makes everything worse when we can't get her." He crossed his arms on the table and buried his face in his arms.

George put a hand on his shoulder "Don't worry, son, we'll get her."

*A COUPLE OF HOURS LATER. ACTUALLY, THAT'S A LIE. IT'S LIKE, MIDNIGHT NOW*

Eliza moved stealthily across the lawn in the dark, her bag in one hand and the other in her pocket. She dropped down into the bushes on the side of the house, no, the canvas in front of her. Yes, a canvas. What most didn't realize was that fire starting wasn't just a mindless crime, nor a plain boring hobby, but an art. An art that she was still mastering, but that was okay, plenty of houses to practice on. She opened her bag and began a procedure that she had come to memorize. "There's a method to my madness" she had thought while perfecting her plan

Step one: Gloves

She reached into the bag and pulled out two latex gloves. She slid them on to her hands. It wasn't to keep fingerprints from getting everywhere but to prevent any kerosene from getting on her hand. That would be a disaster.

Step two: Kerosene

She had huge buckets of the stuff at home, but only a small bottle was needed per house. Kerosene lit instantly and spread the fire faster, meaning less time to slowly let her masterpiece grow and change. She knew not to douse the house but to squirt it into small sections, let it burn slower. 

Step three: Remove gloves

Though she was neat, her gloves were still speckled with kerosene. She couldn't have herself set aflame, now could she? Eliza stripped the gloves from her hands and tossed them to the ground not bothering to see where they landed. She didn't care about them finding her DNA or whatever. On the contrary, she rather liked the thrill of being caught, and then, of course, lighting the other and herself on fire, giving them and herself the most beautiful and purpose full death one can have: one because of art.

Step four: Matches

The final step and her favorite by far, putting the preparation to use and lighting the house ablaze. She pulled out the matches and then sipped her bag shut. Eliza slung the bag over her shoulder and took a deep breath. She glanced at the dark street around her, how glorious it would look soon when filled with the blinding light of fire! She smiled softly, then struck the match. Threw it on the ground only a few inches from the kerosene. The grass caught fire giving her just enough time to step away and run to view from afar. Watched as the flames rapidly climbed up the building spread faster up the house, soon totally consuming it in flames.

A few seconds more and lights in houses turned on. There were shrieks of terror many shouting "Call the fire department!" or phrases similar to that. She thought back to the first time she had burned something. Back in junior year after she and Alexander had been broken up. Something about the flame dying out. Later that evening her sisters had been out with friends and her father at a work dinner. She'd seen a lighter and thought "Ha. I'll show Alexander flame" She had pulled a shoe box out from under her bed filled to the brim with post its and index cards, note that had been passed between the couple in classes. She had taken them to the fire pit in her backyard and burned each one individually. It was incredible to watch the flames dance on each paper. She was still burning all these years later after feeling the miraculous sensation of bliss that she had first experienced burning those notes years ago.

Huh. Alexander. We was a police officer now, maybe he had worked to stop what she was doing, stop her from burning. After all, she was considered a criminal now. But she couldn't have that. She was only rekindling a flame that he claimed was put out years ago, what was the harm in that? She laughed a bit to herself and then, very quietly, just loud enough for only her to hear she sang one short sentence

"I hope that you...burn..."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry you had to read this. Lol why are you still here?!?!
> 
> CC, I hope you're proud. Also, go to hell. (but not actually ily sm)


End file.
